


One Day At A Time

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comic Book References, Coulace, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Interrupted Declarations of Love, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Secret Crush, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: Just a year into his tenure as Director, Jeffrey Mace must deal with the most horrifying attack on planet Earth to date. The ex-reporter turns to his friend for support, and the two of them depend on one another far more than they initially intended to.





	One Day At A Time

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I have a particular song associated with this fic: “Be Right Back, Moving House” by Ghostpoet.
> 
> There's also a quote or two herein that I've borrowed and twisted around for my own use :-)

_Love, love will remain_  
_Throughout the pain and the strain_  
_Over the years_  
_Faith, faith has it's place_  
_No matter your point of view_  
_Or stance in the world_

_And you, you see it all_  
_I have no place to hide_  
_Or worries to give_  
_And I am sitting over here, looking for the answers_  
_Working it out, one day at a time_  
_One day at a time_

* * *

 

Jeffrey paced his office, his jacket thrown haphazardly over the back of his chair, his sleeves messily rolled up to his elbows, his tie askew, his hair ruffled. It's been two hours since Agents Paul and Cecilio disappeared right in front of him. Two hours since he'd hurried through the base, checking on his agents, discovering that there were many now missing. He'd already exhausted all the curse words he knew. He couldn't get a hold of General Talbot, and he had no idea if that was because he was also gone, or merely overwhelmingly busy by what has happened. Jeffrey had a number of agents out in the field that he had no word from, not to mention friends... family...

The news didn't even catch up until almost forty-five minutes after the disappearances, and ten minutes after the public announcement, the feeds completely cut out. Every station now only rang out color bars and tone; that was when his heart felt like a rock in the bottom of his gut. He'd been pacing nervously, worriedly, ever since.The Avengers MIA? _All_  of them? He had a deeply intense feeling that some of them were Disappeared, too. He hoped to God that they all weren't.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He demanded of himself not nearly for the first time, continuing his pacing.

"Mace?!" Daisy's voice called out urgently, reaching his ears just before she appeared in the hall in front of his open door. She visibly relaxed upon seeing him. "You're still here." She noted, and he paused for a moment, allowing himself to relax slightly as well. She'd been out on a solo mission, and he was relieved to see that she seemed okay.

"Agent Johnson. Good. I - " He hesitated briefly. "We should - " He was struggling to maintain his professionalism. This was - this was _insane_. He wasn't trained for this sort of thing. Was _anybody_  trained for this sort of thing?!

She waited expectantly for his orders, and he grimaced, turning his back toward her and pacing toward the window. He gripped the brick ledge and tried to keep his hands from shaking. He still had people that needed guidance. An entire _world_  was out there - or what was left of it - grieving, confused, scared. He needed to be the Director. S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to get to work.

He gritted his teeth and turned back around, but Daisy was gone. Had he just imagined her? For a sharp, terrified moment, he wondered if she was one of the Disappeared, as well. His feet began pacing the floor again without much thought of his own, and he pushed his fingers through his hair, gripping firmly, trying to bring clarity into his panicked mind. He should take official stock of his agents. That's what should happen first. As terrified as he was to find out who all was truly Disappeared, it needed done. There needed to be lists made. They needed to reevaluate, plan, organize. Focus on the city nearby, make sure people were safe, go from there...

Imagining all the store fronts that were now possibly owner-less, banks that were unprotected, cars that had no drivers, babies that had no guardians -

"I'm going to throw up," He groaned to himself, pressing his palms firmly against his eyes as his stomach rolled. He registered footsteps quickly approaching him, and hands grabbing onto his wrists.

"Sit down, Jeffrey. Here." Coulson's voice guided him softly but firmly as he led him toward a chair. Jeffrey could have cried with relief at hearing Coulson's voice. Coulson grabbed the trash bin next to Jeffrey's desk and placed it by his feet, then knelt in front of the chair. "Put your head between your knees, breathe," Coulson guided him, his palm pressing between Jeffrey's shoulder blades until he was doing as instructed. "Breathe in slowly, counting to nine... hold it.... and out slowly." Coulson's tone softened further. "Slower than that." As Jeffrey's pulse eventually slowed to a more normal pace, Coulson slid his hand up to the nape of Jeffrey's neck. "That's it," Coulson praised as Jeffrey noticeably calmed, "Just focus on your breathing."

When he was sure that he wasn't going to throw up, Jeffrey sat up slowly, Coulson's hand drifting off of him as Coulson leaned back on his haunches to look at him. Jeffrey was immensely pleased to see that his two best agents, at least, were still here.

"We need to," Jeffrey licked his lips and swallowed, trying to gather himself. "Status check." Coulson nodded, understanding, but put his hand on Jeffrey's left knee.

"Let Daisy and I take care of that." Jeffrey stared at Coulson's hand, unable to keep himself from feeling like he was being the opposite of helpful right now. He wasn't being the leader that he should be. "Hey," Coulson called his attention sternly, probably guessing at his self-deprecating thoughts by the expression on his face. "Whatever you're thinking right now? Stop it." Coulson ordered. Jeffrey looked at him with a bit of surprise at his tone. "Have you tried Talbot?" Coulson asked, and Jeffrey shook his head.

"No answer." He pressed his lips together in an effort to keep himself from riling up into a panic again, and Coulson squeezed his knee.

"Keep trying," He encouraged. "There's got to be _someone_  left in that office who can give us a situation report on their end." Jeffrey breathed in deeply and then nodded, and Coulson stood. "Daisy and I will check on our own people. You stay in here and keep on that phone. I still haven't quite figured out the pattern or point of attack but you're safest in here,"

"Phil, there was no pattern," Jeffrey pointed out. "It could have easily been me, or you, or Daisy!" He gestured toward where she was standing near his desk, having given him some space while Coulson had calmed him down. "The media is guessing at thousands - probably _millions_  - " The thought staggered him, and he made a strangled noise as he felt like he couldn't breathe again.

"Hey! Hey, hey," Coulson quickly knelt again and grasped the back of Jeffrey's neck, holding him firmly as he pressed his forehead against Jeffrey's. "Focus on what's at hand. The only way we can begin to handle this is to take it step by step. First ourselves. Then those nearest us. Then we go from there." Coulson reminded him, his tone soothing. He breathed purposefully until Jeffrey was copying him, until they were breathing together in rhythm and Jeffrey wasn't shaking anymore. "Jeffrey, you can do this. We can do this. Okay?" Coulson informed him, and Jeffrey nodded, his forehead brushing against Coulson's before Coulson pulled away and stood up again.

"Cell lines are probably all tied up, so here," Daisy stepped closer to hand over a walkie to Jeffrey. "We'll keep in contact with these. Channel three. Let us know if you - when you - reach Talbot." Jeffrey nodded again, accepting the walkie from her. He swallowed and rolled his shoulders, trying to shake a bit of the tension away, and then stood.

"Okay."

Coulson gave him a small encouraging smile, and then they were gone. Jeffrey still had to take another moment, but he felt more sure of himself again, less like he was floating in a void of haze. He checked that the walkie was tuned to the correct channel and rested it on his desk as he picked up his landline. It still had power and service, being within a government facility, but he was sure even that wouldn't last forever. He dialed quickly, not wanting to waste any more time. The sooner he got into contact with the Army, the sooner they could figure out how to help the world recover from this.

__________

 

"Glenn is gone." Jeffrey muttered toward his desk when Coulson entered the office again many hours later. It was very late in the day - or very early, depending on one's point of view. "His assistant had put his office into lockdown, not knowing what was going on. She eventually got back to me, and... half of the people in the Pentagon are just _gone_ , Phil."

"A little more than half, here." Coulson added quietly, setting the notebook he'd been using atop Jeffrey's desk as he sat down across from him. "I think we've got everyone in there... marked accordingly." He heaved a heavy sigh, and Jeffrey knew that Coulson felt the weight of the situation just as he did. These were his people, too; in some ways even more so than Jeffrey's. "I... can't get a hold of Fury." Coulson admitted, and their eyes met. "Or Maria Hill."

"Jesus." Jeffrey cursed in a dismayed whisper. He knew that Coulson had direct lines to them and would have been able to get some kind of message even if they'd gone underground.

They sat in silence for a long respectful moment, and then Jeffrey straightened up a little in his chair.

"The President, miraculously, is still with us. He's been holding conference meetings all day, is probably still meeting with people now."

"Does he have orders for us?" Coulson wondered, and Jeffrey scowled slightly.  
  
"This Thanos guy is beyond our control," Jeffrey quoted, and Coulson raised his eyebrows and leaned forward in his seat.

"Thanos?"

"I wanted to dig in on him. Find out anything about him that we can, go after him, but the President said that he was too much for the Avengers to handle, and we ‘aren't to go anywhere near the thought of him'." Jeffrey scoffed. "I understand bureaucracy is a necessary evil sometimes but this is -!" He slammed his fist against his desk. "Fuck! We're supposed to bury our heads in the sand?!"

"What do you want to do?" Coulson asked quietly, knowing full well what Jeffrey wanted to do.

"First, we're going to make sure our people are willing to continue. I'm giving them the opportunity to leave if they want to - I'd fully understand the desire to check in on friends and family. But I'm going out there," He turned his chair slightly to point out the window behind him, "And I'm helping the people of this city in any way that they need. And then," He pulled a notepad out of his desk where he'd scrawled various contact numbers down. "I'm going to hunt down whatever superheroes are left."

"All of them?" Coulson raised one eyebrow. "What is that, Tony Stark's cell number?"

"Yes," Jeffrey answered Coulson's light sass, surprising him again. "As well as all the other's that Talbot's assistant could find. Do you still have contacts for Barton and Romanov?"

"Yes..." Coulson replied slowly, and Jeffrey nodded.

"We'll need them, too. And any other superhero you might know. And any others that _they_  might know."

"Gathering an army to go after this Thanos guy?" Coulson admired, and Jeffrey shook his head.

"Eventually, perhaps. But it's going to take an army to help this world heal, Phil." Jeffrey softened his resolved tone, and leaned back in his chair again. "Perhaps showing the world all the supers working together will help everyone else come together and stand with one another, as opposed to taking opportunity for more... nefarious acts."

Coulson smiled softly at him, a proud expression on his face. Jeffrey smiled tiredly back, and although there were a ton of logistics to still figure out, they both needed a moment to sit in silence together for a while.

__________

 

Wherever he'd come from, whoever he really was, Thanos had gone just as quickly as he'd arrived. Stark, once Coulson had been able to track him down (and _that_  was a pretty ridiculous story in of itself), was able to tell them a little bit, but it wasn't much. It wasn't enough. Jeffrey didn't push him though; it was clear he was mourning just as much as the rest of them were. Besides that, Stark could probably kick his ass if he pushed him too hard. He was already clearly overwhelmed.

"Everyone dies and I find out _you're_  still alive?!" Stark had grouched upon meeting Coulson once he was brought in through the hangar bay. "Damn it, Phil!" He was pissed off, and Jeffrey worried if he was about to throw a punch, because he was still wearing what was left of his suit.

Then he pushed something that made the suit fall away into what looked like normal workout gear, and he grabbed onto Coulson and pulled him into a tight embrace. If that wasn't surprising enough, Coulson hugged him back. The... people that had been with Stark on the other planet, and the few agents who'd been in the hangar bay with them, all stood awkwardly quietly, not sure whether to go on with work, or wait a moment.

"They're gone, Phil. Right in front of me, he - I couldn't do anything." Stark's mutter could easily be heard in the silence of the room.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so sorry." Coulson murmured, and Jeffrey didn't really know much about Tony Stark other than what everybody knew about him, so he was pretty surprised when the man held onto Coulson tighter, dropping his forehead against the agent's shoulder to hide his face.

"C'mon," Jeffrey advised his people quietly. "Deal with the Quinjet later. Give them some space." He glanced at Stark's friends, or whoever they were, and gestured that they follow him.

They did so, though looked suspicious and unsure. His agents, as well, kept a close eye on them both. He understood entirely, given that the woman was clearly some kind of part-machine, and their history with robots was not so pleasant. The walking and talking raccoon... well, that went without saying.

"Are you injured?" Jeffrey asked them, hoping that he didn't appear nervous around her. Stark hadn't acted like they were enemies or anything, so Jeffrey had to assume that she was on their side, though everything about her expression told him otherwise.

"Nothing I can't fix myself." She replied, as if he'd insulted her.

"Still, I'd like my guys to check both of you over." Jeffrey replied, and she tensed up, about to go on the defensive. Jeffrey stopped walking toward the labs and turned to face her, giving her a serious look. "You don't know me, I get that. I don't know you, either. You're on _my_  base. And I'm going to be honest - our history with robot people _sucks_. My agents won't bother you if you don't give them reason to, but don't take it out on them if they keep a close eye on you. We're all going to have to learn to trust one another over the coming months."

"Months?" She repeated, and then laughed. "I'm not staying here two days if I can help it. I need to find Thanos."

"And what, take him out all on your own?" Jeffrey returned, raising his eyebrow.

"Your little team of superheroes couldn't do it," She huffed. "What, you think that was a fluke?"

"No - that's why we're going to put together a _big_  team. With everyone that we can get." Jeffrey told her. "Including you, if you're willing to stick around for a little bit." She thought about that for a moment, and then gave him a look.

"We'll see. But the first time one of your little scientists tries to stick something in me, I'm stabbing them."

“Ditto.” The raccoon piped up. He'd mostly been shuffling around morosely, but the glare he gave Jeffrey said enough about his intent.

"Noted." Jeffrey said.

The hangar door opened again to reveal Stark and Coulson, the first of which walked determinedly up to Jeffrey.

“I need a phone. I need to call home base, I can’t get F.R.I.D.A.Y. back online for some reason; the suit's glitched out. I need to check on Pepper.” Stark spoke quickly and pointedly and Jeffrey scrambled to follow along information he didn’t recognize whatsoever.

“Pepper!” He caught on. “Pepper Potts, of course. Come this way, Mr. Stark.” Jeffrey gestured.

“Just Stark. Or Tony. Please. I could deal without hearing 'Mr. Stark' for a while.” He replied darkly as he followed, and Jeffrey nodded.

After warning the crew to treat them respectfully, Jeffrey left Tony’s “friends” in the lab as he guided the other two men to his office.

“Tony!”

“Oh, God,” Stark moaned in relief as he and Pepper met one another in embrace in the middle of Jeffrey’s office. Jeffrey stood aside with Coulson, noticing his friend smiling a little fondly as the couple checked over one another and made sure they were unharmed.

“Tony, you’re bleeding!” Pepper realized, but he shook his head and tugged her close again, hugging her tightly.

“I’m never letting go of you.” He murmured against her neck, not caring about his own injury currently. Jeffrey gave them a few moments, but then gently cleared his throat.

“There’s someone else here who was pretty relieved to hear that you survived, too.” Jeffrey announced carefully, and Stark finally paid attention to the rest of the room.

“Hey, Tony.” Steve Rogers greeted carefully, tiredly.

“Rogers.” Stark returned, but his tone was one of relief. He shifted to hold Pepper against him with one arm while he reached out his other hand, and he grasped his old partner’s hand firmly. “I...” Stark paused, and then said, “It’s damn good to see you.”

They gave one another tired apologetic smiles, knowing that there was a lot to discuss at a different time and place, and then released their hands.

“Did you know about this?” Stark snarked, pointing at Coulson. Rogers shook his head.

“I thought you might’ve.” He answered, and Stark shook his head.

“Not at all.” He sobered quickly, and Rogers grimaced as he knew what was coming. “Who - ”

“Why don’t you get some rest first, Tony,” Rogers began, and Stark bristled.

“ _Who is left_?” He hissed, and Pepper held onto him a little tighter. Rogers took a moment before answering.

“Thor.” He eventually said. “Bruce. Rhodey’s okay too.” Stark sucked in a breath at that, though it was difficult to distinguish whether it was in relief or concern. “Natasha is alive, and some of T’Challa’s people. But I don’t know about anyone else.”

“.... Barnes?” Stark questioned carefully, and Rogers shook his head, his expression pained. Stark pressed his lips together for a moment, but then said, “I’m sorry, Steve.”

The Captain nodded and glanced away for a moment, his fist clenching by his side as he fought to keep tears at bay.

“Have we heard from Barton? What about Wanda? I assume, since... I assume Vision is gone.”

“Clint is AWOL. He was on house arrest but I haven’t been able to contact him since the Disappearances. Wanda and Vision are both gone.”

“Damn it.” Stark whispered, and then after a second repeated it louder in frustration. Then, he turned to Coulson, “What’s going on? What’s the plan? Has Fury messaged you?”

“We have reason to believe Director Fury has been uh, Disappeared, along with the rest.” Jeffrey answered, and Stark focused on him.

“That’s right. You’re the new guy.” Stark remembered from his tabs on the media, and Jeffrey grumbled.

“Not so new anymore.”

“I figured you were just a face, honestly.” Stark shrugged, and Jeffrey looked affronted. “Fury was still Director behind the scenes.”

“No,” Jeffrey started.

“No,” Coulson smirked, “That’d be me.”

All three of his old friends stared at him in surprise.

“For how long?!” Stark wondered incredulously.

“Since Hydra,” Rogers realized aloud as he thought it over. Coulson nodded.

“More or less. Though,” He looked at Jeffrey, who was still frowning next to him, “He took over for me once S.H.I.E.L.D. became legitimate again. Can’t have a dead guy leading an organization, after all.” He gestured at his own face.

“How _are_  you alive?” Stark narrowed his eyes, giving Coulson a once-over. “Alien? Robotics?”

“Little bit of both.” Coulson replied, and Stark whistled while Rogers raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Listen, we can talk about that at a later time. You need to hear what Jeffrey has planned. And you,” Coulson pointedly looked at Stark, “need to hit the med bay.”

“Oh good, you remember I’m standing right here.” Jeffrey snarked, and Coulson gave him a small smile and squeezed his shoulder, moving with him as they both turned toward the big monitor and Jeffrey opened up some of the files they’d been working on.

__________

 

Tragedy often brought people together, at least for a short period of time. They could only hope that perhaps humanity would hold it together a little longer than usual. Those left behind were receptive to their help, willing to help one another, and Jeffrey was grateful for that. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he’d take whatever momentary reprieve he could get.

That said, he was still sitting slouched in his office chair, glaring sleepily at piles of memorandums and suggestions and things that _needed_  done and things that _should_  be done, and- he was crashing. He’d been running on fumes for the past week and his body just couldn’t take it anymore. They were all working hard though, weren’t they? Stark barely left his little laboratory-office he and Fitz had thrown together. Rogers and his small, varying, crew of supers were constantly in and out of the base as they assisted the locals. Jeffrey's own agents were busy making sure that families of those that had Disappeared were taken care of. They were all tired. They’d push through it.

That was the last conscious thought he had, before he felt a hand on the back of his shoulder waking him up.

He jumped, sitting up in his chair, the papers he’d fallen asleep on rustling atop the desk.

“Hey, sorry.” Coulson apologized softly. He was peering at Jeffrey worriedly, and Jeffrey glanced away from him. He knew he probably looked worn out. “When’s the last time you got some decent rest?”

“Twenty-fifteen?” Jeffrey guessed, but Coulson pursed his lips instead of laughing at Jeffrey’s attempt at humor.

"Have you eaten today?" Coulson asked in that same gentle voice, his hand still resting on Jeffrey's back. Jeffrey furrowed his brow just slightly at that; he didn't recall Coulson usually being a touchy-feely kind of guy, but for the past week he's been there, a hand on the shoulder or arm or the back of the neck. Somehow he'd been aware that Jeffrey occasionally needed that grounding touch, and provided it without question.

Perhaps he should tell him how grateful he is that Coulson hadn't been one of the Disappeared. Was that selfish of him?

"Yeah, at uh," Jeffrey glanced at his watch, deciding to answer Coulson's question. "Twelve hours ago." He admitted.

Coulson tsk'd under his breath and squeezed Jeffrey's shoulder before taking a step back.

"Come on," Coulson gestured his head toward the office door.

"Phil, I have to - "

"It's past midnight, Jeff. All that can wait until tomorrow," Coulson nodded toward the desk, and folded his arms across his chest. "You're no help to anyone if you drain yourself out. Now come on." He repeated himself a little more like it was an order.

"Were you in the gym?" Jeffrey wondered, now noticing and curious of his t-shirt and jogging pants.

"Stark wanted a sparring partner to let off some steam, and Daisy's already asleep, so," Coulson shrugged, and Jeffrey raised his eyebrow as he slowly got to his feet. The more he thought about food, now, the more he realized how hungry he actually was.

"You had a sparring match with Tony Stark?" Jeffrey said in amazement. "I'm sad I missed that."

"Get out of your office every now and then and maybe you'll catch something," Coulson teased, waiting for him to walk ahead, shutting the door behind them as they left the room. "Now, what do you want to eat? I made myself some salmon earlier; there's still some leftovers I can throw together,"

"Woah, you don't have to do all that," Jeffrey interrupted. "You should probably get some sleep, too, you know."

"Would you let me take care of you, first?" Coulson griped good-naturedly, and Jeffrey wasn't sure what to say to that. Coulson's words filled him with warmth and love, and he hadn't been prepared for that kind of emotional response.

"Okay." He said ineloquently. Coulson looked pleased, though, so Jeffrey didn't protest further as they strode down the steps and into the kitchen.

"Sit there," Coulson told him distractedly as he stepped around the counter toward the fridge. He wasn't exactly ordering Jeffrey around anymore, but Jeffrey did as instructed nonetheless, sliding onto one of the barstools. He tried not to think too deeply about how relieved he already felt not to have to make any kind of decision in the moment. Coulson still seemed to be pleased, too, so he also tried not to feel too guilty.

"You don't have to take care of me, you know," Jeffrey told him quietly, still a little guilty. There was too much going on in the world around them to have to worry about little things like his eating or sleeping habits. He should be doing better about that.

"I know I don't _have_  to." Coulson replied, focusing on the glaze he was stirring together for the fish. Jeffrey silently watched him for another minute, before shifting uncomfortably on his seat. He felt like he should be actively doing something. He wondered if Coulson would let him get a drink from the fridge.

Then he wondered what the hell made him think that. As if he even needed permission to get up from his seat.

"How is the - "

"If you're about to ask about anything work related, don't. No more work tonight." Coulson interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. Jeffrey pursed his lips, but accepted Coulson's rules for the conversation.

"How are _you_?" Jeffrey drawled, standing and moving toward the fridge. "Are you sleeping enough? Eating?" He was being a little sassy, but he wasn't sure yet exactly how he felt about Coulson taking care of him the way he was. It wasn't really anything all that odd, except Jeffrey's own emotional reactions to it were... overwhelming.

"Who really does sleep as much as they should, these days?" Coulson wondered rhetorically, and shrugged. "I'm okay. All things considered, I'm probably personally doing better than I was two months ago."

Jeffrey nodded solemnly. They've all really been through the ringer lately. This whole Thanos thing was just the straw that broke the camel's back. As Jeffrey sat back down with his bottle of water, he looked at Coulson's arms again.

"Were you really sparring with Tony Stark earlier?" He asked dubiously, though he noted the way Coulson's muscles moved as he brushed some of the glaze overtop of the salmon, and shifted the pan on the stove.

"What, you don't believe me?" Coulson raised his eyebrow. "I could hold my own against that guy _before_  I was a black-belt." More seriously he added, "He knows what he’s doing. It was a good match." His tone made Jeffrey furrow his brow.

"Are you hurt?" He asked worriedly, and Coulson smiled a little.

"Just some sore muscles." He promised.

They chatted carefully about topics that weren't quite directly related to work, until Coulson plated up the meal and slid it in front of Jeffrey with a bit of a flourish.

"Phil, this looks amazing!" Jeffrey praised in surprise, looking down at the plate and then up toward Coulson.

"If you tell me one more time that I didn't have to," Coulson let his threat hang open-ended, and Jeffrey huffed but held his hands up in defeat.

"Fine, but at least let me wash up the dishes once I'm finished." He said as he picked up his fork and scooped up a piece of fish.

"Oops, too late." Coulson replied cheerily, and Jeffrey looked up to see him already taking his cooking dishes to the sink. "Relax, and eat." He tossed out over his shoulder, and Jeffrey sighed quietly as he tried to do just that.

"Holy shit, Phil, this is amazing." Jeffrey proclaimed after his first mouthful of food, and Coulson grinned at him proudly.

__________

 

"Stop thinking that you're taking advantage. I'm the one that offered to make you dinner. I'm the one that walked back up here with you," Coulson scolded, and Jeffrey ducked his head. Coulson had followed him all the way back to his quarters, to make sure that he didn't go back to his office and start working again.

"I know that trick very well," He'd said.

"I just feel like... I'm not doing enough. I'm not the leader that they need. You are." Jeffrey admitted.

"Not doing enough?" Coulson repeated incredulously. "While I may have also considered the thought of gathering supers together, _You're_  the one that implemented the plan. _You're_  the one who made sure we were doing anything we could for the families of our Disappeared agents. _You're_  the one who's still keeping an eye on Inhuman relations and making sure the government isn't taking advantage of people's fear to negate what little good we've managed to do before all this mess."

"But,"

"You still want to be the boots on the ground, Jeff. I get that. I _really_  do get that. But we _have_  people who are doing those jobs. At this point there is so much more that needs done, so much more that Steve Rogers and Tony Stark can't do. Things that _you_  can."

"You've always had such confidence in me." Jeffrey sighed longingly, lifting his head up slightly to glance at Coulson. Coulson gave him a soft smile. "I just try to be  _half_  the leader that you are." Jeffrey pointed out.

"No, you've always been a good leader, Jeffrey. I've just tried to make you see that for yourself." Coulson told him.

Jeffrey was overwhelmed with a rush of emotion that he wasn't sure to name, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching for Coulson and pulling him close, hugging him. His hug with Stark when they'd reunited had looked like it'd been a part of the healing process for the Avenger; maybe it would help Jeffrey too. Maybe Coulson had magical hugs.

Jeffrey laughed a bit manically, and Coulson's arms tightened around him just a little. Interesting, that Coulson hadn't seemed surprised by Jeffrey's embrace at all.

"What's wrong?" Coulson asked quietly, not pulling away, like he knew how much Jeffrey needed this. Jeffrey himself hadn't even known just how much he needed this.

He opened his mouth to say something, but surprised himself again when it came out mostly like a short sobbing noise. He held his breath in an effort to control his emotions, but they were boiling over at this point.

"Have you talked to anyone?" Coulson asked gently, able to feel how Jeffrey was fighting against his own body. "About what's going on?"

"What's going on?" Jeffrey repeated, and pulled himself away from Coulson then, gesturing his hands wildly in frustration. "Who is there to talk to? Everyone knows what's going on. Everyone's lost somebody - hell, some people have lost everybody," Jeffrey cut himself off as his throat tightened up with remorse. After a moment he somewhat managed to say, "Who am I to saddle someone with my loss when they're already dealing with their own?"

"Jeffrey," Coulson sighed almost scoldingly, and he reached for Jeffrey, but he pushed Coulson's hands away. Coulson simply outmaneuvered him and moved in quickly, grabbing onto Jeffrey a little harder than he had before, hugging him half against his will this time. "Talk to me." Coulson encouraged, pressing his cheek against Jeffrey's, "Talk to me."

"They're gone," Jeffrey blurted, unable to contain his sobs any longer, not with the way Coulson was practically cradling him against himself. "They're all gone," He moaned in despair and clenched his fists around the back Coulson's t-shirt.

It was unfathomable how many people had been killed. Jeffrey had seen the numbers, and they probably weren't even the final count. All that loss simply broke his heart and he had no idea how to work through it. All he did know was that Coulson was safe, and comfortable, and that told his brain that it was okay to finally let out all the emotion he'd been trying to keep tucked away.

He registered Coulson making soothing noises, his hands rubbing against his back, and then he was urging him toward the bed while he fetched a glass of water from his bathroom.

Then Coulson was sitting up on the bed next to him, holding him again, Jeffrey's head in his lap and Coulson's hands soothing through his hair and against the back of his neck. And he stayed there, too, unashamedly holding Jeffrey until he finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

And when Jeffrey woke up a couple of times, in the middle of the night, Coulson was still there, his breaths steady and slow, guiding Jeffrey back toward sleep.

__________

 

"I never could have imagined this." Jeffrey admitted, his gaze on the sky above them as they chatted. Coulson had appeared in the office with a six-pack and suggested they get some fresh air out on the roof, and by "suggested", he'd rather ordered Jeffrey to join him. Two more weeks had past since Jeffrey's meltdown, and he was overdue for a bit of a break.

Of course, Jeffrey had heeded Coulson's orders.

"Imagined what?" Coulson asked softly, his eyes on Jeffrey.

"Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had been surprising enough. For that title to hold such weight, now?" He heaved a heavy, quiet sigh, and drew a long swallow of beer from the bottle in his hand.

"It's always held weight," Coulson pointed out, and Jeffrey glanced over to give him a wry expression. "But I know what you mean." Coulson gave him a small, understanding smile.

"There are so few leaders left in the world. Everyone - quite possibly _everyone_  - is looking at those of us who are left, and expecting us to lead. To carry on. To guide them."

"Churchill wasn't always Churchill, you know." Coulson reminded him. "The circumstances surrounding him molded him and his decisions, just as they are you."

"I'm sure his advisors helped a lot, too." Jeffrey replied, tipping his bottle in Coulson's direction in a form of salute. "I'm a better person because of you." Coulson frowned at him, and Jeffrey continued before Coulson could interrupt, "And before you tell me yet again that I've always had it in me, well, you're the one that showed it to me. You're the one that helped me find my place. Showed me that I belonged."

"You always belonged, Jeffrey."

"I just didn't know my position on the team, yet. But I know, now. I'm assistant coach." He smiled a little, and Coulson raised his eyebrow.

"Assistant coach?" He repeated. "You know, when I mentioned Churchill,"

"And I'm happy with that. More than happy, really."

"And who is head coach, then?" Coulson questioned, having an idea.

"You, obviously."

"Jeffrey, I can't be head coach again - I mean, I can't be Director again. Not now, not with S.H.I.E.L.D. in such a spotlight. You know that." Coulson reminded him carefully, not wanting to take from his little moment. Jeffrey shook his head.

"It's worked well like this; you calling the shots, me handling the bureaucrats. You've _been_  head coach for a long time now, Phil. Just behind the scenes." Jeffrey gave him a sideways smile. "I like it when you're calling the shots."

He knew that had come out a little saucily; he'd wanted it to. Judging by Coulson's flash of surprise, and then his slow smile, he'd followed right along with the tone. Coulson took a drink as he considered something; whether it was a conscious gesture or not, his tongue darted out to touch the rim of the bottle before it pressed against his lips, and Jeffrey knew he'd be remembering _that_  image for days.

“Is that all you like?” Coulson wondered cheekily, though his expression was honestly curious. So Jeffrey decided to be honest, too. After all, the brevity of life was mostly definitely not lost on him.

“No, that’s not all I like.” Jeffrey answered, and Coulson looked surprised again, but kept listening quietly. “I like the way you look at me. I feel like I can do anything when you look at me like that. And I like the way you touch me.” Coulson raised his eyebrow at that one, and Jeffrey hurriedly clarified, “I mean, you’re... encouraging. And supportive. And calming, soothing.” Jeffrey subconsciously touched the side of his own neck as he thought about it, and realization dawned on Coulson’s face. "Just having you in the room with me makes me feel more courageous than I ever could be on my own."

"You should have more belief in yourself, Jeffrey." Coulson scolded lightly.

"I do, Phil! It's because of you, but, I do." Jeffrey huffed, and then said more calmly, "I just want to thank you for that. For everything you've done for me.” Coulson was looking at him so intently, he had to avert his focus back on the stars. Coulson's expression made him nervous, though not necessarily in a bad way. “How many of those stars out there do you think Thanos has destroyed?” Jeffrey wondered, needing to get his brain to focus on another topic not directly related to Phil Coulson’s gorgeous eyes.

"We'll get him." Coulson promised quietly, but with great intent. Jeffrey was sitting back so he could look up at the sky, leaning his weight on his free hand as he lifted his bottle back to his mouth. Coulson put his own hand on top of Jeffrey's on the ground. "We _will_  get him, somehow. He'll pay for all of it. We'll avenge _all_  of them." Coulson said vehemently, gesturing his head toward the stars.

His hand was a warm, comforting weight, and Jeffrey was all too aware of the intimacy of the moment. Instead of frightening him, though, it made him feel almost giddy. Suddenly he was picturing what it might be like to kiss Coulson.

"Jeff?" Coulson's softer tone jarred him from his daydreaming, and he felt Coulson brush his thumb over his knuckles. "Do you really... like the way that I touch you?"

Jeffrey slowly turned his head toward Coulson, not sure how to answer that. What kind of answer was Coulson looking for? He sounded hesitant, maybe hopeful, but maybe Jeffrey was just projecting that onto him. He glanced down toward their hands, and then back up to Coulson's eyes. He swallowed, his tongue darting against his lips as he opened his mouth to answer, but the words died in his throat as Coulson's gaze dropped to his mouth.

He froze, lips parted, as Coulson stared at his mouth, and his chest felt tight. Was Coulson leaning closer? Coulson was leaning closer.

Fuck, Coulson was _leaning_.

Like they were magnets, Jeffrey leaned a little as well, moving so slowly that he wasn't even actually sure if he was moving. Was this happening? Were they really about to kiss? Coulson's eyes hadn't lifted from his lips yet. Was he still daydreaming?

There were definitely only a couple of inches between them now, and Jeffrey's breath caught in his throat. Coulson's hand shifted upward to curl his fingers around Jeffrey's wrist, and now overwhelmed with want, Jeffrey tilted forward to quickly close the final distance between them. He'd never wanted something so much as he wanted to feel Coulson's mouth against his own. He craved it, like he craved his morning cup of coffee. And now it was there, right _there_ , close enough to feel warmth, close enough to be surrounded by Coulson's scent. His desire to discover Coulson's kiss absolutely consumed him.

The stairwell door behind them thrust open, an excited voice drifting out along with feminine laughter, cutting through the moment like a sharp knife.

Jeffrey and Coulson jolted away from one another immediately; Jeffrey turned his head away and lifted his beer bottle to his mouth, taking a large steadying drink, closing his eyes as he wished desperately that his lips were pressed against something else right now. It took everything he had not to whine in disappointment. Coulson's hand slid off of Jeffrey's and the Director lamented the loss of warmth.

"Oh hey," Stark realized, focusing outside of Pepper. "Didn't realize the space was ocupado,"

"It's fine," Coulson promised, standing up and picking up his empty beer bottle. "It's late; I was just heading in, anyway." He offered them a genial smile and didn't look at Jeffrey at all before he stepped around the couple and reached for the door.

Jeffrey got to his feet as well, feeling out of sorts.

"Sorry," Stark whispered after Coulson had disappeared through the stairwell door. "Didn't mean to cockblock you."

"You didn't!" Jeffrey assured him quickly, putting what he hoped was a neutral expression on his face. "Phil is a good friend. He just understands the job better than anyone else I know. I like to talk things through with him."

"Yeah," Stark nodded, replying agreeably, "Sure, sure." He and Pepper shared a look that made Jeffrey frown, and he itched to get out of there.

"You two can have the rest of the beer. I'm going to try and catch some shut-eye." Jeffrey told them, heading toward the door as well.

"Sweet dreams!" Pepper called out a bit _too_  sweetly, and Jeffrey was just glad that he was facing away from them so they didn't see his blush. " _Phil_ ," Jeffrey heard Pepper whisper pointedly toward Stark.

"Right? Dead giveaway."

"It's cute," Pepper replied. "Though surprising."

"It's been a long number of years, Pep. And if he kept his death from us, then you know he probably didn't tell anybody else, either..."

"Yeah. I just really got the impression that he loved her dearly."

"He might've." Stark agreed, and after a moment he declared in a lighter tone of voice, "Free beer! Maybe I should make a career out of cockblocking. You think I'll get rewarded every time?"

"I doubt it, Tony." Pepper's eye roll was apparent in her tone.

The door closed Jeffrey off from the roof and their conversation, and he headed down the stairs with his mind and heart roiling in confusion.

__________

 

"Nebula is the only one that can get us to Thanos. The only one who can get close enough to him to get the gauntlet back." Jeffrey explained to the large crowd in front of him.

Over the course of the last few months, after life had somewhat stabled on Earth, they'd managed to persuade a large amount of powered people to help them find and defeat Thanos. Not everyone had agreed - they thought Thanos was too powerful, that it was a wasted effort, or they simply didn't see how becoming a part of this doomed escapade would help their own life.

Now most of those that had joined up were all gathered in the S.H.I.E.L.D. hangar bay, and those unable to attend physically were tuning in via radios and other devices. Many didn't trust that a large part of the plan hinged on someone they saw as a villain, someone who, granted, generally was villainous. But in this situation, Nebula had agreed to help. She understood that her own life was at stake, as well, and wanted to defend that. Above all, though, she wanted revenge for the murder of her sister.

"How can we trust her? How can _you_?" Someone called out incredulously. A smattering of voices agreed.

"Because I'm _choosing_  to," Jeffrey replied straightforwardly. "Just as she is _choosing_  to share her information with us. The world has changed, people. Irrevocably. We are all fighting for the same thing, and it's time we put aside our honestly _petty_  differences. Thanos is no doubt feeling drunk with power, distracted by his pride - and he won't be expecting us to team together like we have. This is _exactly_  why we have to trust Nebula, along with everyone else who's agreed to join in the effort." He paused for a moment. "I'm not saying this compatriot attitude will last - frankly I'll be shocked if it does. But in this moment we are not Inhumans versus humans versus Avengers versus the bad guys - we are all people of Earth. We _are_  Earth; _one_  people fighting against _one_  enemy. We all know he can't be defeated individually. But together? _With_  Nebula?" Jeffrey glanced over at her, where she was standing a little separate from the rest of the crowd, before refocusing on everyone, "We _will_  get him. He'll pay for _everything_  that he's done."

The group in front of him more or less all nodded in agreement, some begrudgingly, but nonetheless they accepted his words. Someone over the radios started clapping, and eventually they all joined in. Jeffrey put his hand up in a gesture of thanks, but ducked his head and hopped down off of the storage crate he'd been standing on. He just wanted to rally the team together, he wasn't looking for their admiration.

Mack, who had agreed to be the next level of command for the operation, took Jeffrey's place on the container. As he began explaining training schedules and the tiered teams that needed to be formed, Jeffrey tried to sneak his way out of the hangar bay and back into the main base.

"Alright, President Whitmore," Daisy teased, appearing at the edge of the crowd and grinning as she gave Jeffrey a few claps in applause as well. He smiled back, half-embarrassed.

"It's a great speech," He reasoned, "It just came to me in the moment; I had to use some of it."

"It might be the dorkiest thing ever, but you aren't wrong, Jeffrey. A team that trusts _is_  a team that triumphs. And we need to - whether we like it or not - trust Nebula along with everyone else right now." She told him, sidling up beside him and walking with him toward the door. She used her badge to scan through, and wondered innocently, "I didn't see Phil. You've got him out working on something?"

"No." He replied simply, trying to keep down his conflicted emotions regarding Coulson. They'd managed to avoid one another apart from mission briefings and other strictly work-related business. They'd certainly never been alone together, not since the roof... "What?" He realized that Daisy was just standing there looking at him with a raised eyebrow, although the other interior door had already opened.

"You're not worried that he's seemed to have up and vanished?" She pointed out, her expression unwavering.

"I saw him this morning." Jeffrey furrowed his brow, not understanding her. "He's not vanished anywhere."

"The Phil Coulson I know would _not_  have missed such a dorky-but-inspiring speech from The Patriot. Did you two have a fight?"

"I'm just talking to them as the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. You know why I'd rather them be more dependent on me in that role than me as The Patriot."

"Of course," She nodded, "but that doesn't make you any less of The Patriot. You _did_  get in a fight with Coulson, didn't you,"

"Phil and I didn't get into a fight," Jeffrey rolled his eyes, and stepped around her to head down the main hall passed the labs. Her encouragement filled him with warmth, but her belief in him reminded him of Coulson and made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to talk to her about Coulson. She was too perceptive.

"Jeffrey," Her tone had softened slightly, and she grabbed onto his arm to halt his steps. "We need each other, now more than ever."

" _I_ know that," He frowned, "I just finished explaining that to everyone else!"

"I know Coulson. He tends to pull away when things are tough. When he's struggling with something, he tries to hide it. To figure it out on his own when honestly the best course of action should probably be getting help."

"If you're worried about Coulson struggling with something, then why don't you find him and talk to him about it?" Jeffrey grouched defensively. It wasn't like he was actively avoiding Coulson's problems - he _wanted_  to help Coulson in any way that he could, probably even more than what Daisy realized. But that would mean the two of them being alone together, and _that_  was what Jeffrey was afraid of. If they were alone, again, he might not be able to hide his emotions so well...

"Because you're the boss, and you can give him an order if it comes down to it." She pointed out, raising her eyebrow at his tone as she let go of his arm.

That wasn't necessarily true. The only times he'd been capable of ordering Coulson around was when he was really pissed. It would be difficult to explain that to Daisy, though.

"And I have a feeling that whatever his issue is, it's to do with you." She informed him plainly.

"What makes you say that?" He wondered incredulously, avoiding looking at her as he started walking again. She followed with him unhesitatingly, explaining,

"He gets just as defensive as you do. Are you _sure_  you didn't fight?"

"Now how is that something I wouldn't be sure of." He returned wryly, and she shrugged, huffing out an annoyed breath.

"I'm just saying, after the Disappearances the two of you were practically attached at the hip. Co-Directoring to the extreme. Now all of a sudden it's the opposite? It's weird, that's all."

"Who all thinks this way?" He asked quietly, after a moment.

"Me." She looked at him sideways. "Jemma. Even Mack has mentioned something. And Piper, too,"

"Look, if it'll help the team relax," He sighed heavily, "then I'll go find Phil and have a talk with him, okay? But I promise we aren't fighting."

Daisy brightened immediately, and even squeezed his shoulder supportively.

"Good!"

And with that, she turned and ducked into the labs, leaving him alone in the hallway. He paused, pursing his lips for a moment. He had a feeling that there were some thoughts that Daisy hadn't voiced; an ulterior motive of hers.

She couldn't... _know_ , though... could she? Coulson wouldn't have told her about what happened on the roof, surely.

Jeffrey sighed again, but continued on down the hall. In any case, he did need to find a way to get Coulson comfortable around him, again. He needed his expertise, and anyway, he missed the man's calming presence. Perhaps that was selfish of him, but he would take whatever he could get. He would settle for being able to look Coulson in the eyes again.

__________

 

Jeffrey found him in his office, asleep, his head resting on top of curled arms. There was something endearing about his slumped pose, like a kid that had fallen asleep while studying hard for a test.

Recalling the way that Coulson frequently approached him when he himself was stressed, Jeffrey slowly stepped around the desk, and only hesitated after his hand was hovering above Coulson. While he didn't get the feeling that Coulson was mad at him, he _did_  feel that Coulson was embarrassed. His fond gestures of before had completely stopped after their interrupted moment on the roof. Jeffrey wanted to repair some of that.

He wanted to comfort Coulson the same way that Coulson had comforted him.

His fingers drifted lightly along the line of Coulson's neck, his eyes zeroed in on Coulson's face. Coulson didn't budge, so Jeffrey slowly cupped his hand around the back of his neck, just resting his palm there for a moment. Coulson breathed in deeply, but still did not otherwise move, so Jeffrey began massaging his fingers gently against the muscle there, feeling out knots and working them loose.

He pressed the pads of his fingers against a particularly large knot, and Coulson sniffed suddenly, smiling for a moment before his eyes darted open. He lifted his head slightly, and while Jeffrey stopped massaging him, he didn't let his hand totally fall away from his nape yet.

"Jeffrey?" Coulson's brow twitched in confusion, and he sat up more fully.

"You seem... tense," Jeffrey explained hesitantly, sliding his hand toward Coulson's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. Coulson's shoulders and upper back immediately sagged a little in Jeffrey's direction, so he stepped behind the chair and put both of his hands on Coulson's shoulders, beginning a more proper massage. He moved slowly, waiting for Coulson to pull away from him or tell him to stop, but Coulson did neither of those things.

In fact, he closed his eyes again and shifted in his seat so Jeffrey could reach his upper back muscles more easily. A small smile curled on his lips, and Jeffrey couldn't help but smile in response, pleased that he could do something to make Coulson feel good.

"The meeting went well, I think," Jeffrey conversed casually, and Coulson grimaced for a moment.

"I missed your big speech, didn't I? Damn it! I didn't want to miss that." He sounded really put out, and Jeffrey did his best not to chuckle out loud. Daisy really did know her mentor well.

"I'm sure Daisy probably recorded it, or something," Jeffrey placated, rubbing his thumbs firmly against Coulson's trapezius muscles. He seemed to have gathered a majority of tenseness there.

Coulson hummed quietly under his breath as more knots were released, and while that sent some nice tingles down Jeffrey's spine, he managed to keep professional about it.

"I won't hold it against you," Jeffrey added. "You're tired. I can't fault you for taking a nap - though you could have at least moved to your couch." He gave the piece of furniture a wry glance - while it looked incredibly comfortable, it was a bit large for this office. Coulson had insisted, though, and Jeffrey figured it was his own problem for creating a slightly more cramped working space. Coulson had insisted that it was "cozy", not "cramped".

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," Coulson admitted. "And actually, I should get back to work." He straightened a little in his seat, though his muscles did feel more lax beneath Jeffrey's hands, so Jeffrey followed his lead and let his hands fall away, stepping back to the side of the desk. "Thank you," Coulson looked up at him, meeting his eyes directly for the first time in quite a few days. "Honestly."

Hell, his eyes really were damn gorgeous, though.

"Do you need anything?" Jeffrey asked, hoping that he didn't sound too desperate. He didn't want this improvement in their relationship to get cut off, he didn't want to go back to the cold shoulder and silent-treatment technique.

"I'm fine," Coulson assured him, though his smile was too quick and he dropped his gaze back toward his computer.

"Seriously, Phil," Jeffrey said a little more firmly, "Anything. Let me do it. Please; even if you just need a cup of coffee. I'll go get you one." Coulson froze, and then slowly lifted his gaze back toward Jeffrey's, though his expression was difficult to interpret. "Let me help you." Jeffrey inquired softly.

"Seems like it wasn't so long ago I was saying that to you," Coulson mused wryly, carefully. A yawn suddenly overtook him, and he grimaced. Jeffrey raised his eyebrow.

"How long ago have you last slept? Not counting this nap overtop your files, here," Jeffrey asked, and Coulson snorted.

"Now I _know_  I've definitely asked you that, before,"

"Phil." Jeffrey gave him a small smile, and gestured his chin toward Coulson's couch. "Go take a nap. A real one. What have you been working on? I'll cover for a little while."

"No, it's fine." Coulson insisted a little too sharply. Jeffrey pursed his lips, staring him down, drawing on his Director Mace persona, and Coulson eventually sighed. "It's... difficult to sleep." Coulson admitted.

"Why?" Jeffrey wondered gently, his concern leaking through.

"I'm afraid that I'll... I'll just Disappear. That I'll float away into nothingness while I'm asleep and no one will know." Coulson murmured. Jeffrey made a soft sound in the back of his throat and approached Coulson's chair again, putting his hands on his shoulders and guiding him up to his feet.

"I'll keep an eye on you. I promise." He assured him, urging him toward his couch. Coulson hesitatingly allowed the guidance, obviously at least a little more comforted to the idea of a nap now that he wasn't alone.

"Don't let me sleep for too long," Coulson warned, and Jeffrey nodded. Coulson finally sat, and looked up at Jeffrey. "I was going over the enhanced and the Inhumans that we have. Trying to figure out multiple courses of action. It's good to have a Plan B, C, D, and E." Jeffrey nodded in understanding, but looked uncomfortable.

"We both know I'm not the best tactics guy... but maybe I could at least organize them into groups? Of types of powers? Would that be helpful?" He asked hopefully. Coulson smiled, and nodded.

"Yeah," he admitted, "that would be really helpful." Jeffrey beamed, and nodded, and took a step back toward the desk.

"You get some rest, then, Phil, and I'll make sure you don't go anywhere."

Coulson looked touched by his words, and swung his feet up onto the other end of the couch, tucking his knees in so he could fit and turning over to face the back. Jeffrey watched him fondly for a moment, absently tapping at the keyboard for a moment so Coulson would think that he was working. He didn't really start until he noticed that Coulson's breathing slowed and evened out, signaling that he'd fallen asleep.

About ten minutes went by in easy silence before Jeffrey heard a quiet whimper from the couch. He immediately darted his gaze over to Coulson's sleeping form; he hadn't seemed to move at all, but after a beat, his shoulders twitched.

Jeffrey got up and approached the couch carefully, loathe to wake Coulson up so soon, but he also didn't want him to suffer through a nightmare. Coulson whimpered again, his hands tucked up against his chest, and Jeffrey crouched behind him, one hand balanced on the edge of the couch cushion as he gently settled his other hand atop Coulson's shoulder.

"Phil, it's okay," He soothed very softly, not wanting to scare him. Coulson whimpered and shivered again, and Jeffrey slid his hand along his upper back, rubbing his palm over Coulson's shirt. Coulson seemed to relax after a moment of this, and eventually sighed quietly. Jeffrey let his hand fall away from Coulson, and stood straight.

"Don't go," Coulson whispered, so quickly that Jeffrey wasn't sure if he heard him correctly. His fists were still clenched together against his chest, and otherwise gave no other indication that he'd awoken.

"I'm right here, Phil." He promised, putting his hand on Coulson's shoulder again. He sat on the edge of the cushion behind Coulson, and Coulson shifted closer to the back of the couch, making more room for him. "Do you want me to... lie down for a bit?" Jeffrey did his damndest to ask that as casually as possible, but his voice still wobbled with nervousness. Coulson didn't answer for an agonizingly long moment.

"Yeah." His answer was even quieter than his last words, and he was deathly still, but Jeffrey had still heard him. Jeffrey slowly curled along behind him, tucking his knees into the crook of Coulson's, keeping his hand firmly on his shoulder.

He curled his other arm beneath his head and slowly settled, his face not-quite-touching Coulson's nape. He barely breathed; although Coulson had asked him to lay down with him, he felt like he was intruding. This was almost _dreadfully_  intimate.

Coulson relaxed entirely, however, and his breathing slowed and softened again. Jeffrey couldn't help but smile to himself, immensely pleased that he'd been able to help Coulson relax. Subconsciously he soothed his thumb against Coulson's shoulder, his skin sliding against the soft fabric just as soothing for himself, as well.

He really didn't mean to fall asleep, but it was almost impossible not to.

__________

 

"Jeffrey?" Coulson's voice roused him awake, and he blinked sleepily.

"Hmm?"

"How much work did you actually get done?" Coulson sounded amused, and the proximity of his voice - and the warm body that Jeffrey felt against him - reminded Jeffrey of the situation.

His hand, at some point, had drifted further around Coulson's chest, and Coulson was holding it within his own, even now that they were both awake.

Jeffrey tensed immediately, far too comfortable being spooned around Coulson as he was. The last thing he wanted was to make Coulson uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I - you were having a nightmare, and I - "

"I know, Jeffrey." Coulson interrupted him calmly. "It's fine. Thank you."

He sounded like he was being honest, but how could it be _fine_ ; they were _cuddling_.

"I'm not sure how long we were asleep, but I do feel refreshed." Coulson added, still speaking in that dreadfully calm voice. He slowly let go of Jeffrey's hand, as if he didn't want to call attention to the way their fingers had been tangled together, and Jeffrey realized that Coulson was afraid of scaring _him_.

"Good, good." Jeffrey replied haltingly. He swallowed, and then carefully twisted himself away and rose from the couch, trying not to bolt too quickly. Keeping it casual.

Because spooning your friend on his office couch was totally casual.

"I um, you should probably get back to work," Jeffrey figured shyly, brushing his hand down the back of his hair. Coulson rolled over and sat up, watching Jeffrey with an adoring smile.

"I should." He agreed.

They looked at one another for a moment, and Jeffrey nervously scratched his brow before then checking again that his hair was tamed.

"I've got some things I need to check on. Send me a progress update in a couple of hours?" Jeffrey requested, trying to get back to business. Coulson nodded easily, and pushed himself up into standing position as well.

"Of course." Coulson replied softly.

Jeffrey's smile was more hurried and jumpy, and he left Coulson's office before he did something to make it even more awkward.

He couldn't say for sure whether they'd just repaired the awkwardness between them, or made it worse.

__________

 

"Have we met?" The sarcastic, costumed one, Wade Wilson, spoke up, and pointed at Thanos. "I feel like we've met."

"No," The Titan frowned, wrong-footed by Wilson's casual tone of voice. They were supposed to be in the middle of a drag-down fight right now.

"Are you _sure_? I'm pretty good with faces, and I _really_  feel like we've met before." Wilson mused thoughtfully, even scratching his head.

"You think you can distract me with your little games," Thanos smirked, glancing around toward the group of supers that he could see. "I won't be making the same mistake twice." He assured them. "Why don't you go back home, and get back to your life? I _saved_  you; you should be _thanking_  me,"

"Did you _really_  think," Jeffrey growled, taking a step forward, ignoring Daisy's warning hand against his arm, "that we would stand down? That we would bow down to you?" He sneered. "I get on my knees for no man,"

Many of the supers around him nodded in agreement and took a step forward with him, joining him.

"Except to that guy," Wilson piped up, jutting his thumb in Coulson's direction. Jeffrey hesitated, and slowly turned an incredulous look in Wilson's direction. Wilson nodded sagely and added, "I bet you get on your knees for him like you're taking holy communion - "

" _Dude_." Daisy hissed, giving Wilson an even more incredulous look than Jeffrey was. Wilson put his hands on his chest in an innocent gesture.

"I just call it like I see it! They're totally boning. Go ahead, ask them to sit down, and see which one took the foot long,"

" _Now_!" Jeffrey shouted loudly, wanting to shut Wilson up while also noting that, although he'd claimed otherwise, Thanos had managed to be distracted. It was only brief, but it was enough.

Carl Creel, who had thus far been hiding himself, reverted into Vibranium, which they'd all guessed was about the only thing that Thanos _couldn't_  effect. Joey Gutierrez simultaneously molded Creel's arm into one long, incredibly sharp sword, and Creel sliced upward through Thanos' shoulder from behind.

Thanos immediately cried out in pain, but his body shuddered and collapsed, and Nebula smirked, stepping forward to the detached arm.

"You've become too prideful, _Dad_ ," Nebula gloated mockingly. "The only thing you couldn't beat was time and space itself, so you decided _becoming_  time and space was the next best thing?" Her laugh was devoid of humor as she reached for the gauntlet, shaking it free from Thanos' arm. "You figured we'd be too intimidated by the sight of you to get up close and personal, huh?"

Suddenly, Thanos' face twitched and he growled, twisting and reaching for her with his good arm. He'd returned himself back to his body, but was too late. She side-stepped away quickly, slipping the gauntlet over her own hand.

"Nebula - !" Jeffrey shouted in horror, staring wide-eyed as she lifted her hand up, middle finger and thumb poised together.

"Trust me." She told him. They stared at one another for a moment, and then in a dreadful heartbeat she snapped the fingers of the most powerful thing in the entire universe.

The silence that followed was deafening. Jeffrey held his breath, and then looked down at himself, pressing his palms against his chest. Nothing was happening, and he felt okay. He darted his gaze over to Coulson next to him, and reached for him, at the same time Coulson was reaching his hands out as well.

"I'm... I'm okay. Nothing's happening." Coulson realized slowly, and they looked at one another with immense relief, clutching each other’s hands tightly, before then looking to Nebula.

The gauntlet had disappeared, and she stood there with the five stones resting in her palm.

"What happened? What did you do?" Jeffrey wondered, staring incredulously as she didn't seem to be destroying herself by holding all the stones in her bare hand. He slowly released Coulson's hands, trying not to call attention to just how tightly they'd grabbed onto one another.

They realized dust was filling the air, and they turned to see Thanos dissolving into nothingness; suffering the same exact fate he'd put upon so many innocents.

"Take them." Nebula ordered gravely, after a moment of silence. Jeffrey blinked at her, and she held her hand out toward him, offering the stones. "Take them and hide them across the galaxy - hide them better than they were hidden before. Tell _no one_  where they are."

She huffed wryly as no one's expression changed, and added,

"This is far too big-time for me. I might not like people, but I'm not a _tyrant_."

"I.... I can't," Jeffrey gestured with his hands. The power in the stones would just eat through the gloves of his suit.

"I'll take them." Coulson offered, holding out his prosthetic hand, palm up. Jeffrey held his breath again as Nebula poured the stones into Coulson's hand. Again, nothing seemed to be happening. Everyone standing nearby them seemed to be holding their breaths, as well; it was deathly quiet.

"I won't be returning to your Earth, so don't worry about that." She sassed, sniffing in distaste as if Earth were beneath her. "I have my sister to find." And with that she turned on her heel and began walking back toward one of the Quinjets. "And I'm taking this ship!" She called out without looking back.

"I - "

"I wouldn't argue," Daisy warned, putting her hand on Jeffrey's chest to keep him from stepping after Nebula.

Jeffrey closed his mouth, and then nodded. The loss would be expensive, but in the end negligible compared to what happened today. He turned back toward Coulson, who hadn't moved. He was staring down at the stones resting in his palm, his expression... odd.

"Coulson?" Jeffrey asked carefully, taking half a step toward him. Coulson's expression kind of scared him a little bit, and he didn't seem to have heard Jeffrey say his name. "Phillip?" Jeffrey prodded a little more insistently.

Seemingly jarred out of whatever he'd been thinking, Coulson grimaced and grabbed onto his prosthetic with his other hand, clenching his fist firmly around the stones and then twisting the prosthetic off of his arm.

"Take this," He said shakily, thrusting his arm into Jeffrey's hands. Jeffrey fumbled it against his chest in surprise, but didn't drop it, and watched as Coulson stalked back toward one of the Quinjets. Jeffrey, Daisy, and Elena all watched their friend walk determinedly back toward the aircraft, and then looked at one another warily.

"Kinky." Wilson commented, suddenly standing there near them as well. Jeffrey pressed his lips together, doing his best not to get annoyed, as Creel and Joey joined their little group.

"It worked," Daisy breathed out joyfully, half in disbelief. She hugged both men; Joey seemed to enjoy the gesture more than Creel did, though Creel did return a hug as well. "I honestly wasn't expecting Plan A to work."

"When does Plan A ever work?" Elena agreed, smiling and hugging Joey as well. She gave Creel a fist-bump, much to his relief.

"We have to figure out who can take those. Where they can go, so it'll be almost impossible to find them." Daisy pointed out gravely, not quite looking at Coulson's prosthetic in Jeffrey's hands.

"She said she had to look for her sister?" Elena wondered. "Her sister was killed by Thanos, no?"

"Maybe..." Daisy mused thoughtfully, and her eyes grew wide and she turned toward Jeffrey again. "You don't think she would have...?"

"Brought _everyone_  back?" Jeffrey guessed, finishing her question. He shrugged. "I honestly don't know... she has no reason not to, but she also has no reason _to_ , either. It's quite within her sensibilities to only bring back those _she_  cares about."

"She did ask you to trust her with the gauntlet." Daisy noted.

"But she could have been asking us to trust her not to kill us." Wilson pointed out. Daisy nodded in agreement.

"But what if she _did_? What if she did bring everyone back?" Daisy hypothesized.

"Well... there's only one way to find out." Elena reasoned.

Those celebrating and crying in relief around them slowly gathered to focus on Jeffrey again, requiring new orders, and the group turned to focus outside of their private conversation. Jeffrey didn't want to get anyone's hopes up only for that to be dashed upon their return to Earth, so he chose not to share his team's considerations. They were overjoyed that the threat of Thanos was gone, and that revenge had been had. He didn't want to take that away from them.

"Let's go home!" He shouted in victory, and they began cheering again, clasping one another on their backs as they made their way back to their various forms of transportation. He shared a look with Daisy and Elena, who both nodded in understanding. "If we're right," He murmured softly, "then they'll arrive home to a wonderful surprise. And if we're not... they won't know any better."

"If we _are_  right, then I know exactly who can take these things off of our hands, and transport them to where they need to be," Daisy mused, leading the way toward the Quinjet that Coulson had disappeared on.

Stepping inside, Jeffrey first secured Coulson's prosthetic with the stones away in a case, before standing in front of the man sitting slumped in one of the jump seats. Daisy was only just getting the Quinjet started up, so they had a minute before takeoff.

"Is this where the heroes kiss? Usually I'm the one doing the kissing, ooo, this is _exciting_ , I get to _watch_  - "

"Shut up and sit down, Wade." Daisy interrupted dryly. He'd been flinging his inappropriate humor all over the place since they'd recruited him, so much to Jeffrey's relief, she wasn't taking any of his words seriously.

"It was... so alluring." Coulson whispered, so quietly that Jeffrey barely heard him. He furrowed his brow, figuring Coulson was talking about the stones. "I imagined all of the things I could do with that kind of power. Wipe out Hydra for good. The Watchdogs. Go back in time and make sure Hydra never infiltrated and took over S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place. Make sure that I never got stabbed and died. Give Daisy a life, a real life, with her real parents."

"Phillip," Jeffrey began soothingly, and Coulson lifted his head to look up at him, giving him a startlingly serious look.

"Those stones can give you powers, Jeff. _Real_  powers. You wouldn't need a high-tech suit - you could _really_  be The Patriot."

"I - " Jeffrey's immediate rebuttal cut off as he imagined that. As amazing as that could be, he shook his head. "I _am_  The Patriot, Phil. _You_  taught me that. I don't need powers to be a hero." He knelt in front of Coulson, and rested his hand on his knee. "As tempting as the stones were, you still pushed them away."

"It was horrifying, the _want_  that just... rose up within me. It was..." Coulson shook his head, unable to find another word for it. "Terrifying."

Jeffrey half-smiled.

"Terrifying want rises up within me all the time." He admitted softly, and Coulson's gaze darted back toward him, startled. "Wanting something is not inherently bad, Coulson. It's how you react to that want. How you manage it."

"And how do you manage yours?" Coulson wondered, his voice raw. His attention now seemed mostly shifted away from the stones, which was Jeffrey's intention.

"Not well." Jeffrey replied, his smile widening wryly. Coulson's gaze lightened, his eyes softening, and he glanced down toward Jeffrey's mouth.

"What you want... is it bad?" Coulson knew damn well what Jeffrey wanted.

" _I_ don't think so." Jeffrey answered, his skin tingling a little with the knowledge that Coulson was focused on his lips. "But it's... powerful. Like those stones. ... I think the stones are not _inherently_  bad, and wanting to do good with them? Wanting to help your friends? Phil, that doesn't make you a bad person. A moment of weakness is... is inconsequential." Jeffrey shrugged.

Coulson stared down at him for a long moment, taking in his words. He seemed to accept them, and Jeffrey squeezed his knee encouragingly.

"Jeffrey?" Coulson asked, his gaze unwaveringly intent. Jeffrey raised his eyebrow in question. "What is it?"

"What is what?" Jeffrey wondered when he didn't continue.

"That you want." Coulson clarified. "What is it that you want."

Jeffrey opened his mouth, then closed it, and swallowed. Coulson wasn't obtuse; he knew what he wanted. But he wanted confirmation. He wanted Jeffrey to voice it. Jeffrey licked his lips and then swallowed again, beginning carefully,

"It's not so much a _what_  as it is a - "

The Quinjet jolted upward off of the ground, and Jeffrey stumbled up to his feet to grab onto the storage rack above the seats, before he found himself planted in Coulson's lap. As exciting a prospect as that might be, it wasn't something he wanted to happen within mixed company.

Daisy heard his scuffle of feet and glanced back toward them from the cockpit.

"Dude, strap in! I thought you were ready to go!" She complained, and as the plane tilted he followed the momentum to a seat across from Coulson, falling into it and buckling himself in.

He stared at Coulson across the aisle, unsure of his feelings, unsure of his unfinished sentence, as Coulson stared back at him.

Wilson groaned obnoxiously loudly, dropping his head back against the jump-seat he'd grabbed closer to the co-pilot's seat.

"Oh, _come_. _On_."

__________

 

Jeffrey made it to the hall right before the labs before Coulson caught up to him.

"Stop!" Coulson shouted demandingly, and Jeffrey's feet halted beneath him as if he weren't the one in control of them. Various other members in the hall hesitated, clearly startled by the tone in Coulson's voice and then even more-so when they realized he was talking to the Director in that tone of voice. Coulson's steps sounded firmly down the hall until he had rounded Jeffrey and was standing in front of him.

Jeffrey lifted his chin slightly, expressing his mild annoyance that Coulson was ordering him around in front of all the other agents. Mostly, it was annoyance with himself that he so immediately always _listened_  to that tone in Coulson's voice.

"I'm not doing this anymore." Coulson insisted, and Jeffrey stared at him in confusion.

"Doing what?"

"Do I need to use those damn stones to get you to kiss me?" Coulson demanded, and Jeffrey stopped breathing, his heart somersaulting in his chest. "Outside of dealing with Thanos you have been avoiding me like the plague since that night in my office, and I'm not putting up with that anymore."

"Uh, Phil," Jeffrey half-smiled hesitantly as he glanced around, more agents strolling to a stop as they overheard Coulson's words.

"Ignore them!" Coulson ordered, and Jeffrey stared at him incredulously. "I realize our avoidance was mutual, but I'm done with it." Coulson looked frustrated, and then took a step forward. Jeffrey flinched back,

"What are you - "

Coulson grabbed onto Jeffrey's chest plate and hissed,

" _Stand still_."

With no further warning, he pulled Jeffrey against him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

Jeffrey stood unmoving, too dumbfounded to respond. Was this... real? Had he died fighting Thanos?

"You're back!" Simmons' voice called out in happy surprise from somewhere behind Jeffrey, and he felt Coulson's hand leave him, presumably to hold up his finger in her direction in a silent order for her to wait. "Oh." She commented, her surprise of an entirely different sort as Coulson had yet to stop kissing Jeffrey.

He tilted his head, maneuvering his lips over Jeffrey's and guiding his mouth open, his tongue sliding in just briefly.

Oh, _fuck_ , this was definitely real.

Every muscle within Jeffrey seemed to relax at once and he pressed himself more firmly against Coulson's body, finding use of his arms and sliding his hands across Coulson's back. He began actually kissing Coulson in return, and Coulson softened the touch of his lips, not as demanding now, allowing Jeffrey to take a little from him in return.

It was even better than he'd ever imagined, and he admittedly got a little carried away; mapping out Coulson's mouth with his tongue, giving him long and deep kisses that were most definitely _not_  appropriate for the middle of the hallway. Jeffrey was the one that moaned, his knees half-giving out beneath him, and Coulson wrapped his arm firmly around Jeffrey’s lower back, holding him against him. If Coulson's mouth felt amazing, his body against Jeffrey's was doubly-so, and Jeffrey hummed quietly with pleasure. Coulson's fingers pressed against his spine, sending exciting tingles all through him, and suddenly he was desperately curious to feel those fingers against his skin.

Slowly, Coulson lightened their kisses, eventually tilting his head back slightly to pull away altogether. His eyes were glazed happily and his mouth was red, and he was breathing a little heavier than before. Jeffrey was sure he probably looked about the same.

"I love you." Jeffrey told him seriously, and Coulson's answering smile was slow but wide. He moved his hand from Jeffrey's waist to the side of his face, and stroked his thumb against his cheek.

"I know." He mused, not without emotion. Jeffrey's eyes glinted at the Star Wars joke, and then Coulson added, "Everyone else knows now, too."

Jeffrey bit his lip as he once more became aware of the hallway around them, now scattered with agents that had stopped and watched the escapade in varying levels of amazement. He straightened, taking just half a step away from Coulson so that they weren't plastered against one another, and cleared his throat. He glanced around, spying May, Simmons, and Fitz standing in the doorway of the lab.

"We _always_  knew, you morons." May rolled her eyes, and then Daisy, standing further back toward the hangar bay, whistled loudly.

"Oh, Wade is gonna be _pissed_  he missed _that_ ," She crowed.

A few agents, much to Jeffrey's embarrassment, chuckled and cheered, but then they went on with their business and stopped gawking at their boss and his... his what? He looked back at Coulson, finding the man already looking back, and he smiled. The label didn't really matter. He was his.

Jeffrey reached up and grasped Coulson's hand, squeezing it as he smiled widely again. He wanted nothing more than to seclude themselves in his office upstairs and get back to kissing him.

"Was your arm damaged? Do you need the backup?" Fitz spoke up, noticing Coulson's missing arm, and Jeffrey blinked a couple of times, trying to focus.

"I would like to have both of my hands, yes," Coulson replied, his eyes on Jeffrey, and Daisy snorted as she approached the group. Simmons looked uncomfortable, and Fitz glanced at her in a panic, unsure of how to respond to that, before simply turning and disappearing back into the labs.

"Before you two get _too_  distracted, _again_ ," May drawled, "you might like to see something." She gestured them to follow her into the labs, and led them to one of the computers, pulling up a news channel streaming page.

"What..." Jeffrey trailed off as they all watched the screen. Coulson reaffirmed his grip on his hand, as their hopes were indeed confirmed.

Nebula had done it - or rather, undone it. She'd brought everyone back.

"That's T'Challa," Jeffrey recognized in joyful amazement, as a somewhat grainy video showed the celebrations in Wakanda. "She did it."

"She did." Coulson admired.

"Cecilio!" Daisy crowed, and they turned to see the large man standing in the doorway. Daisy ran up to him and gave him a big hug, much to his chagrin, though he eventually smiled and hugged her in return.

" _Damn_  is it good to see you," Jeffrey breathed out, pulling his hand from Coulson's only so he could step forward and reach his other hand out to shake Cecilio's. They greeted one another with warm fondness.

"I don't... I can't exactly explain..." Cecilio began, with mild confusion, and Jeffrey shook his head.

"Don't worry about that." He turned toward Simmons. "Can you check him over? Make sure he's okay? And Paul, too... and - and if they're back, that means everyone is back." Although he should have been bone-deep exhausted from the fight, he was suddenly filled with so much excitement and adrenalin and joy that he was literally bouncing on his toes a bit.

"Yes," Simmons chuckled in amusement, her eyes glistening with joy as well. "Yes, I'll check over everyone. We'll make sure they're all back and healthy." She promised. She grasped his forearm for a moment, expressing her thanks toward him, and then went to gather her team so they could get started.

"Here you go!" Fitz sidled up to them, proffering an opened briefcase in Coulson's direction. "I made sure not to grab the one with the laser finger." He joked, and Daisy groaned loudly.

" _Oh my God, Fitz_."

Jeffrey only laughed, far too filled with happiness to be embarrassed.

"May?" Coulson asked for his friend's attention as he secured the new prosthetic onto his arm. "Can you take care of things for ... for now?" She pursed her lips, looking between Coulson and Jeffrey with a raised eyebrow, but she nodded.

"Go on." She gestured her head toward the hallway. "Daisy and Mack and I can more than manage until morning."

"Thanks," Coulson grinned hurriedly and pulled her into a hug, before reaching out with his prosthetic and gripping Jeffrey's hand. "C'mon," He walked quickly out of the labs, tugging Jeffrey with him, "I know exactly how you're feeling right now, and I have an idea how to release some of that adrenalin,"

Jeffrey perked up, his steps quickening to easily keep up with Coulson's. All through the base they caught glimpses of their people reuniting with one another, the Disappeared apparently reappearing within HQ, even those that had been out on a mission when Thanos' attack had happened. Jeffrey didn't question it - the stones were beyond their comprehension. As overjoyed as he was that his agents were alive, he didn't slow or waver the course; he and Coulson half-stumbling and laughing at themselves as they hurried up the steps toward his quarters.

There was a _ton_  of work to do, to reintegrate those that had Disappeared all over the world, to make sure no one was stranded somewhere, to make sure Stark's friends had Reappeared here and not on the planet where they'd Disappeared. But they had to take it one day at a time. And today, they would celebrate.

Coulson shut and locked the door as soon as they were in the room, and turned toward Jeffrey.

"Take off your suit." He ordered, and Jeffrey grinned, immediately reaching for the buckles on his armor.

* * *

 


End file.
